


Waking

by Lunarium



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Lovecraftian, M/M, ToT: Monster Mash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: In which everything is waking by the Year 90.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IdleLeaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdleLeaves/gifts).



> Many thanks to my beta! :)

The prattle of rain against the barn’s outer walls provided a soothing sound that made it hard to resist the pull towards sleep, but the absence of his lover beside him drew Reynir’s eyes wide open.

Finding him by the door, Reynir frowned. Lalli had been so tired when they reached the barn that he could do little else beside melt completely in his arms, having given himself fully in trust and love, agreeing to be led down, placed on his back, accepting each kiss and caress with one of his own, the love mingled even with each little yawn.

But his eyes were now wide open, pupils tiny, and his stance fully alert as he peeked from a crack of the door.

“Lalli, what is it?” Reynir spoke in Lalli’s language, saying each word softly if it helped to calm the riled nerves of his lover.

A hand shot out, motioning him to remain silent.

“Lal—”

“It’ll come for us if it hears us.” The words spoken were so quiet that Reynir needed to lean forward. Lalli’s eyes didn’t once break contact from whatever he had espied. In that moment Reynir realized the rain had stopped, leaving behind silence—utter, nerve-wrecking silence, the sort which crushed his chest with the unspeakable horror contained within it.

“I thought it was Icelandic at first,” Lalli said, his lips barely moving. “I kept hearing chanting in my sleep. Thought it was you until I woke up and peeked out.”

Gingerly Reynir got to his feet and joined Lalli by his side, placing his hands around his waist. When Lalli didn’t move, Reynir peeked from the space allowed above Lalli’s head.

The barn they were hiding out the storm in was alone in a wide open field, grey and the grass drying and brown. A mist had formed since their coming here, but in the distance Reynir saw what had disturbed Lalli.

He bit back the cry of horror.

“Nothing like that was ever in Iceland,” Reynir whispered in Lalli’s ear, who quickly hushed him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lalli said. “My grandmother…said they were just stories. Stupid stories to scare readers. People who liked those stories had their own languages, even. ‘Early modern myths,’ she called them. They’re coming alive.”

“Why?” Reynir asked as the massive creature stirred again, its long numerous tentacles swaying ominously behind the fog. Its vast wings and clawed hands stirred dread in Reynir’s stomach as he too began to hear the chant somewhere far, echoing inside his head. “Why is it here?” 

Lalli shrugged. “It seems everything is waking.”


End file.
